Payne and Punishment
by Chris Mitchel
Summary: Two Men, Same Trauma, Two Different Paths Converging, Nearing Critical Mass.From the writers who brought you Metal Gear Suburbia comes a new tale. Max PaynePunisher crossover.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 Picking up the Pieces

The rain made a constant beat against the windowpane. The sudden and unpredictable flashes of lightning showed momentary flashes of a young mans face inside the car. His face was puzzled, he couldn't figure out what he was doing here. He never liked even leaving his own borough, let alone the entire city.

"Soap! Where the fuck are you?" the radio crackled to life.

Soap didn't like his job. He didn't know why he had become a cop in the first place. Maybe somewhere in the dark recesses of his mind he had wanted to help people. But how was chasing down a vigilante who could take him down with a look, going to help the common person?

"I'm on my way to the Crime scene. Gonna see if it's my boy or not."

"Your boy? If you were doing your job he'd be your case. Not 'your boy'."

Soap had the unfortunate duty to track down and stop the man who had labeled himself 'The Punisher'. Soap knew a lot more about him than anybody else. He was one of the only people who actually talked to him. The Punisher or 'Frank' as Soap called him, was the epitome of a man pushed to the edge.

His family had been murdered in front of his eyes. He had been spared by pure chance. Like any other man, he swore revenge. But he had taken a different route than any other man. In his own twisted mind, the idea of revenge became distant. He wanted the men who murdered his family to be punished. Like a fallen angel of death he doled it out to whoever had escaped the legal system, as flawed as he knew it to be. He wasn't dealing with street crime. He only dealt with the part of humanity that believed it was above the law, untouchable he would put it. Like so many other men, he had trained in the marines and knew combat well. He put this to use as he systematically eliminated his self-proclaimed enemies.

"You know it's him. Otherwise you'd be stuttering and blubbering like usual. When you get there the Lieu. Is gonna have a few words with you."

'Damn' Soap muttered to himself. He was gonna be in shit… deep shit.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? Didn't you go through the academy like every other cop on this damn force?"

Soap kept his face down. He hated it when people yelled at him. He felt so much smaller than he really was.

"Everydamn cop on this force KNEW that Punisher was gonna hit this place! We all hate this dead piece a shit too but we do our jobs!"

They were on the Upper East Side. It was a lot different that Hells kitchen… A lot of high level corporate officers lived here. They were in the apartment of one of the Late Senator Woden's Assistants. The building had recently been renovated due to a terrorist attack. no sooner than it had been finished that The Punisher came to exact his retribution on one Dan Drake AKA Slobodan Draculic. A Serbian immigrant who had met Senator Woden through a common aqaintence, the also late Vladimir Lem. With his training in accounting he served the Senator quite well until his untimely death.

After that, he used his skills for other high ranking corporate officials. But now he had a 9 inch combat knife drilled through the bottom of his head to the top. So much blood had drained out of him it was leaking into the room beneath him. One of the Punishers Interrogations no doubt.

He had been 1 of 4 assistants that got off due to lack of evidence in the cover-up surrounding both Alfred Woden and Vladimir Lem's deaths. There were 2 others also involved but they were convicted. Max Payne and Mona Sax. Both were serving twenty-five to life sentences.

"Well you see… the thing is… I didn't really… I mean I couldn't have…"

"Enough! This is the last bloodbath you don't prevent. You're being reassigned, I heard Ohio's looking for a nice pencil pusher."

Soap couldn't believe it. After all this time they finally tell him to get lost, permanently.

The ecstasy in his mind almost prevented him from believing it.

"Who's taking over?"

"Ha… someone who knows the score. He's retired. I think you might know him."

The lieutenant looked at Soaps condescendingly.

"Max Payne."

Soap's mouth opened slightly. His eyes glazed over. Max Payne. New York's Finest turned into a vigilante. A slight chuckle came out of his mouth as he remembered that Max's body count matched up to Franks.

"Isn't he in jail?"

"That isn't your concern anymore. I want you at the station tomorrow ready to sign all the paperwork to get you out of here."

Soap looked up at the lieutenant and stared for a second. Then he turned and walked out of the expensive but bloodied up apartment. He'd have to tell Frank. He owed him that much.

Max leaned forward as he sat on his bunk. His hands pressed against his face. An inmate across the floor looked at him and thought he looked like a religious statue. Then again he was used to him looking like that. But the man in the dark suit standing in front of Max was something new.

"So Mr. Payne… What do you think of our little arrangement?"

"_I think you're one of them. I think you just want to use me against the only other force out there that can stop you."_

"I won't lie to you like all the others Mr. Payne. He is part of what we want you to do. We can help you Max. All you have to do is pull the trigger one more time."

"_Two."_

"What?"

"_You said he was only part of what you wanted me to do. I assume you want me to eliminate someone else."_

"I wouldn't put it like that. But you are right. His name is Ivanov."

"_Should I know him?"_

"You should, you killed his brother. Mike."

"_Hm… my old deputy… It felt good putting a bullet in his brain."_

"You've changed. Woden told us about you, You aren't like what he said."

"_3 years can change a man."_

"… you've only been here 2 years."

"_I've never been the same ever since you killed my family."_

"I didn't kill them. You know what happened. We all deeply regret that incident."

"_You may not have pulled the trigger. But you loaded the gun. If it wasn't for you and your damn secret society I wouldn't be here now. I'd be at a park with my little baby dau…" Max choked. "My baby daughter. She's gone… and so am I."_

"What do you mean?"

"_. . . Sign me up. But I have one condition."_

"Very well. What is it?"

"_You get Mona out as well." _

"You know how we feel about her. She's a danger to us."

"_She's a danger to YOU. So am I but you're coming to me for help. You know nobody can take Punisher out but me. So you're stuck in a bind now."_

"Fine. But we'll only accept with a little condition of our own."

"_What_?"

"You get out of this state, you head for Mexico or Canada. Just don't stay in the States. After this if all goes well, you'll never hear from us again. We'll make sure you get a good start but that's it."

"_Deal. Now get me the fuck outta here."_

The man in the suit knocked on the bar of the holding cage and a guard opened the door.

Max contemplated what had just gone down. A tear built up in his left eye as he realized he had just sold his soul. Was it worth it? Could 2 more bullets be worth a life for him and Mona? Could they even have a life together after all they'd been through? What kind of family could he have? Would the Inner Circle keep their promise? All these questions floated around in what was left of his bullet ridden mind. He scratched the scar he had above his left temple. Where Vlad had shot him. Could he even stay alive? Was he even alive? He buried his face in his hands as he silently wept for his and his love's lives.


	2. Chapter 2

1

Payne and Punishment

Chapter 2: New kid on the block

It's been thirty years now. Thirty years since the horror of watching my wife and kids die in my arms, but I still remember it so perfectly. A bright sunny day in the summer of 1976, and the Castles had gone for a family picnic in central park.

These were in the days long passed, before Uzis and Berettas ruled the streets. It was a Thompson, like the ones or fathers carried. And I knew that unmistakable rattle as it's man stopping .45s drove blood and breath from my body. I dropped to the ground, my daughter laying next to me. She had taken it in the gut. She turned to her towards me, a look of horror on her face, as if asking me why this was happening.

But I had no response.

My wife bled out later in the OR. Her life had drained through an open gaping hole in her heart. Anytime I let my guard down, the look in her eyes creeps up on me, and brings me to my knees.

My son dropped wordlessly to the ground, and I thought, for just a moment, that he was ok.

I got to my knees, taking a breath that cut like glass and searched his body in vain for an entry wound. By sure bad luck, a round had found it's way through his open mouth, killing him instantly.

We hadn't been the ones who where supposed to die that day. No, we were just innocents caught in the crossfire of a mob war.

They're all long dead now, the old man who they shot through my family to kill. The shooter, the old man's soldiers, all of them, dead, by my hand.

That might be enough for some people, to avenge the deaths of there loved ones, but this was never about revenge. No, what I do is not about revenge, it's Punishment.

Soap stared down at the table. He often didn't make eye contact with me, but this was strange even for him. He hadn't spoken two words, just stared at the table.

After I started taking out the Gnucci family, Ma Gnucci demanded that the NYPD do something about me. She wanted a crack team of specialist, men that wouldn't rest until they had caught me.

Instead, what she got, was Martin Soap.

Soap wasn't a bad cop, in fact he was probably one of the few good cops left around. One of those other good cops was Molly Von Richthofen, Soap's one time partner. She had been given a task just as impossible as Soap's was. Her job had been to take down Ma Gnucci. She had figured that the best way to get to Ma, was to follow me, and she had been right.

They had been there when I torched the Gnucci estate. And with a little help from me, Soap had been able to black mail his way into the commissioner's office. He had some big changes in mind for the department. But he never gotten to make those changes, the old commissioner black mailed him right back out.

That's when he became my informant. He got me the info I needed to do my job.

"I've been reassigned Frank, I'm no longer working the Punisher Task Force."

"Soap, what are you talking about, you are The Punisher Task Force."

He looked up at me, a look of despair in those deep set eyes, "Well they've put someone else on, and he won't be as easy to get along with as I am."

"Who is he?"

He let out a heavy sigh, "Frank, have you ever heard of Max Payne?"

I had heard the name before. Max Payne had carved a trail of blood and bullets through one of New York's worst snow storms ever. Leaving behind the bodies of some of the cities biggest low lives. Jack Lapino, the Fineto Brothers, and at the end of it all, Nicole Horn. She as it turns out, Horn had been running the Valkire ring around the city.

It had been all over the papers the next day. A few years ago he went on another killing spree, this time, it ended in the death of senator Alfred Woden, and landed Payne in Rikers.

"I thought he was serving a life sentence."

"Someone cut a plea bargain with him. I don't know what kind of agreement it was, but he's got his badge back."

I leaned forward, picking up the glass in front of me, "Woden was connected the Vladimir Lem and Lem was connected to Slobodan Draculic. Payne Killed Lem and Woden. I'm starting to see a pattern of bodies here."

"And for once, you're not the one leaving the trail."

I let the comment slide, "Soap, there are a few more things I need you to do for me. First, try and find out who made this deal with Payne, and second see if there are any more common acceptances between Lem, Woden, and Draculic."

"Frank, what are you gonna do if Payne comes at you wanting blood, I mean, you don't kill cops, right Frank?"

I slid my way out of the small booth, "This time, I might make an exception."

A hand firmly grasped my forearm as I reached for the door.

"Galina says hello Frank."

I didn't need to turn around, I knew the voice, and could picture the wrinkled one eyed face of the man it belonged to.

"What do you want Fury?"

Nick Fury, the original black ops hard case. Long before I had ever set foot in Da Nang Fury and his teams had set fire to half of Asia. We had crossed paths many times over the last thirty years. S.H.I.E.L.D. had come after me numerous times, I consider the fact that I was able to get away pure luck.

He was without a doubt the one man I could say I was afraid of.

"You're getting sloppy Frank, I all I had to do was follow your little snitch and he lead me right to you."

That was the second time Soap had lead someone I didn't want to me. Last time was a reporter, can't remember his name to save my life. Hand cuffed himself to me, said he wanted the story, I never understood what story there was to want. He ended up on the business end of a wood chipper.

"I didn't ask how you found me Fury, I asked what you want."

I didn't need to worry about him trying to arrest me, he owed me one and said he'd do his best to keep S.H.I.E.L.D. off my back.

"Seems you been pissing off some Russians lately Frank" he said walking over to door, "damn, why the hell can't you smoke anywhere in this fucking city."

He pushed open the door. A fresh blast of late winter air greeted me as Fury stepped out into the night, I was right behind him.

"Remember the Barbarossa incident Frank?"

How could I forget. HALO dropped into Siberia, 700 miles inside the arctic circle, and twelve miles from butt fuck nowhere. Fury had dragged me in to try and retrieve some bio weapon the Russians had been working on code named Barbarossa. It was a suicide mission into a soviet missile silo, the only sample was in the body of the creators daughter, a six year old girl.

Galina had been the same age then as my daughter Lisa had been when she died. In spite of all the things I've done in my life, I couldn't let that little girl see the horrors that silo, the piles of bodies we had racked up. And there was no chance on earth I was going to let anyone harm her.

By the time we got her back on U.S. soil her body had broken down the virus, destroying the only sample, and that made some people very unhappy with me.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

Fury struck a stick match and brought it to the cigar hanging out of his mouth. Taking several quick puffs off it before dropping the match to the ground, "S.H.I.E.L.D. had been monitoring Slobodan Draculic for some time now, and we where able to link him to a man named Ivanov, big time Russian mobster who had ties to Vladimir Lem."

"That name is coming up too many times tonight for my taste."

A cloud of smoke escaped his lips as his reached into his coat, "Somehow Ivanov got his hands on Barbarosa, we're not sure what he's going to do with it" he handed me a manilla folder.

"So you government wants you to deal with it again?"

The old cold warrior chuckled, "No Frank, they have nothing to do with it this time, I figured since you'd have to deal with Ivanov, I'd just give you a little hand." he turned and began to walk off down the street, "I'm staying at the Plaza, come on by tommrow, I got some new toys for you"

With that he was gone.

All I could do was stand there.

Ivanov, Lem, Payne.

I really hate it when things get complicated.


	3. Chapter 3

Payne and Punishment Chapter 3 Outta the Frying Pan...

"Alright Mr Payne, You are now a free man. I don't know how the hell you got this, but I've been around long enough not to ask why."

The guard grumbled this as Max was handed his clothes and wallet. Despite everything that had happened, all the records of Winterson's betrayal was enough to drop the charges against him to manslaughter. But with all his other crimes, it didn't really make much of a difference except one, they didn't foreclose on his bank account.

It had been insane after the incident with Vlad. Both he and Mona were sent to the ICU at the Hospital and stayed there for a long time. Separate rooms and they wouldn't let them talk to each other. The new Lieutenant at the station house came to question him, Lt. Drazen was his name. Max knew him from the station.

Since both he and Winterson were no longer available to take the position, the highest ranking officer below him had taken Bravura's job. Max had always been wary around him, and told him little of the actual events surrounding his second rampage.

Soon after, Lt. Drazen testified that Max had told him he was after Vlad because he double-crossed him out of a position in the illegal weapons business. Max vehemently denied it, but because of his reputation as a gunslinger, he didn't really have any credibility.

In the end, he had been charged with 52 counts of murder in the 2nd degree, and a score of manslaughter charges. Because of his testimony, and the little evidence he had kept this time, he was given a sentence of 25 years to life with a possibility of parole in 20 years. Mona on the other hand, was deemed too injured to stand trial and was remanded to a hospital till such a time that she could.

She was still in that hospital where they had originally been. Now she had 2 bullets stuck inside her. Vlad's .50 cal shot had nearly broken her spine, by pure luck it hadn't severed any spinal cords but it had somehow lodged itself between vertebrae and any attempt to dislodge it could cause more damage. Max was amazed at her ability to survive, and keep others around her alive as well.

She had saved him from a fiery death before all hell broke loose. Vlad had shot him in the head, Luck struck again and his thick skull absorbed most of the shock. He had the most frightening nightmare while he was unconscious; slowly dying with no hope. He remembered parts of it like a vision... wandering the many halls he'd always fought in. Then the final feeling of acceptance as he could see a red sky above. Ever since then he'd been sure that when the time came, he'd be going straight to hell. All those other Near-death experiences had been about the light at the end of the tunnel, not the feeling of resignation.

The only reason he survived was her, she had braved the fire around him, and dragged his near-carcass to safety.

Now it was 2 years later, his wounds had healed, his body was strong from the prison weights and avoiding the gang rapists in the house. But his mind was shattered, broken like so many pieces of a fallen mirror. He put his clothes on and silently left the prison office.

Outside the office, he could see a long corridor to the exit. there were several guards waiting there, expecting him. Like so many things before him, the guards signified a fight, whether mental or physical. They wanted one last chance to break him.

He started walking, a normal pace at first, then a more determined stride as he neared the guards.

"Hey Payne! Got yer mob buddies to get ya out huh? Hahahaha."

"It figures they'd get you out, with Vladimir gone you own his mob, you fucking traitor."

"Look at him! he'll be back here before next week!"

Max ignored it all, nothing mattered anymore. Things had meaning sure, but none of it meant anything to him. All he knew now were bullets... and Mona.

Right as he reached the door, a guard dropped his billy stick in front of him, blocking the way. Max knew the guard, he had used to be a cop and hated Max for killing Winterson who had been a partner.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Max carefully thought.

"I've been pardoned, I can leave."

"Oh really? They pardoned you for killing a cop? Wow, you don't look tough enough to bully a pardon out of the system."

"I don't know why I've been pardoned, As far as I know there's a car waiting for me outside."

"Yeah, Full of mob, You fucking traitor, may you rot in hell."

The guard finally lifted his club, Max pushed open the door and didn't look back, He could feel their gaze pierce his back and drill into his soul. He forced himself not to pay attention.

Up ahead he could see a Limo, obviously with his benefactor. He didn't know his name, but he had a very arrogant look to him. Almost sleazy he was so dressed up. He simply gazed up at him though, Max had almost expected a hug.

"So Mr. Payne, I see you've found me."

"Cut the Crap, just tell me what I have to do and we can get this over with quick."

The man became very agitated, he motioned Max to quiet down and whispered.

"Quiet you fool, you never know who's watching."

He opened the door to the limo and waved Max in.

Inside was a comfortable leather couch, a bar, and even a built in computer with what looked like universal access. Max chuckled at the difference from prison.

The man came in and sat across from Max. he opened the bar and pulled out a bottle of what appeared to be Smirnoff Vodka, not the new one, one of the original bottles.

"Vodka Mr Payne? I know that in jail one cannot enjoy the true essence of Alcohol, only the filthy bits some of them brew."

"No thanks, I don't drink anymore."

"A pity..."

"Look Mr..."

"My name is not important. But in the interest of communication, you can call me Ivan. "

"Alright, but isn't the man you want me to take care of Named Ivan as well?"

Max felt a bit threatened. He was being manipulated and he knew it. But unlike Pinochio, he didn't want to let his controller know.

"No no no... his name is Ivanov. It's a popular name. We don't have any leads on him, but we have a lead on someone who does."

"Frank Castle."

Max was deep in thought, In another time he could have called Frank Castle a friend. It had been published so many times even the newspapers stopped paying attention to him. 'The Punisher' he called himself. Fighting the scum of the corrupt, Max had admired him. But now he was just another killer. Still, he felt apprehensive about approaching him.

"Yes, 'The Punisher' usually has leads on a variety of people. However you also know what he means to us."

"You want me to kill him after I find out what he knows?"

"I'll leave that in your hands."

"Alright, so what now?"

"I'm going to drop you off at the Punisher Task Force office, For the moment, that will be your job. We were able to convince the commissioner to give you that position."

Max was surprised, he'd known the commissioner was dirty but not that dirty. He wondered who's job he'd be taking.

"Will I have any partners or co-workers there?"

"Just one, and he's leaving at the end of this week. You might like to have a chat with him in order to catch up."

"Good, three years in the Pen and I'm a little behind the times."

As Max said this he could see another car through the window, a Mercedes S-500. It was only a concept car when he got put in jail. He really was behind, it'd take a little getting used to not have his Badge with him.

He sat silently for another 5 minutes as the limo made it's way through the city. He noticed places he'd been, places he'd heard about. He wondered if they had rebuilt all the places he had torn apart in his quest for Vlad. The restaurant Vodka, The construction site, Vinnie's Car lot, the old amusement park, and finally Woden's manor. As an afterthought he wondered what had happened to his old Apartment.

"So Ivan, where am I going to be staying?"

Ivan turned back towards Max, he'd been looking out the window as well. Almost longing to exit.

"Oh we haven't provided you any permanent lodging, but we are supplying you with a briefcase with enough supplies to last you for at least a week. Here."

Ivan opened the seat next to him, A hidden compartment. He pulled an armored leather briefcase out. He could tell it was armored by the sheer size of it. Almost a half more wide than most normal briefcases. Ivan passed it to him.

"The code hasn't been inputted yet, you can do that later if you choose."

Max opened the briefcase, Several things were inside. Most prevalent was a .50 cal Desert Eagle. Max recognized it, it was Vlads. The one he used to put a bullet in Vlad after he put one in Mona... and himself. He pulled it out.

"How the hell did you get your hands on this?"

"Never you mind Mr. Payne. Let's just say it's to confuse the CSI's who may be after you."

Max snorted and put the gun back inside. The whole top layer was a foam cut out that had the Gun, a laser sight, and 2 loaded clips. There was also a small vial with some strange green fluid inside. Max pulled it out and looked carefully at it. He was reminded of another green fluid he knew.

"Is this V?"

"In a way yes, It's the Purest form of V our scientists could concoct. in other words, it's exactly what Horne wanted, a super soldier in a vial."

Max pondered over it, all his life... all his life that mattered anymore had revolved around this. this tiny green vial that held so much hope, so much agony, so much suffering. he fought the impulse to shove it down Ivan's throat to see how he'd like it.

"Why are you giving it to me?"

"Well forgive me for saying so, but if bad goes to worse, you can at least be our first human trial with this superior form. Perhaps it could be your last ditch effort to succeed."

Max remembered the time Horne had caught him, she injected him with low grade V. The stuff junkies would kill over. He didn't like the idea.

"So I'm a guinea pig now am I?"

"No, Guinea Pig trials went exceptionally well. They became incredibly strong and were even resilient against the nerve gas used to eliminate them. We can only assume it would be even stronger in humans with our more advanced immune system."

Ivan kept his face as solid as possible. His every effort was to keep Max from doubting him. If things came to worse and Frank Castle had beaten him. At least the Barbarossa inside the vial would keep Max from speaking during one of the "Punisher's' Interrogations. He fought back a wince at his friend, Slobodan.

"So you've finally perfected it? Wow. Horne would be proud."

Ivan kept his face in check. He'd told him the truth, but not the whole truth. They really did perfect V, but only a small amount and that had been given to a certain Russian with a vendetta. That Russian was now inside a solid Titanium panic room in the Former Senator Woden's manor. Awaiting the time of his release.

Max continued going over his briefcase, there were a lot of papers. Mostly paperwork and ID for his new job. A passport with a Canadian origin was in there as well.

"So I'm a goddamn Canuck now?"

"Eh."

Max rolled his eyes and leafed through the rest of it. Mostly requisition papers for the NYPD police department. Enough resources to last for a month. Either he was going to be using it all right away, or Ivan wanted people to think he was staying. There was also a bio on a man called Soap. "The Punisher Task Force." he was replacing. He quickly deduced that this was a man broken. He'd have no problem talking to him.

Just as he put all the papers back into the briefcase, the limo came to a slow halt.

"Well Mr. Payne, here we are. I hope we can come to a quick and mutually beneficial agreement soon."

Max pulled himself out of the Limo. The sun shone on his face forcing his eyes shut. Deep in his mind he wanted to relish it, but his experience forced him to disgust it. It had been a long time since he had seen the sun, his pale skin attested to that. He looked at his hands, white like the rest of his body except where a bullet had left a discoloration.

He rubbed his temple where Vlad's bullet had gone through, a reddish brown mark would stay there for the rest of his life, a testament to his fight. He couldn't even look in a mirror anymore. Maybe there was some truth to that superstition, he had broken a mirror and now they broke him, slowly and meticulously tore him apart,

He went over his mind all the times he'd been under the clouds, fighting for his life, fighting for his loved ones, fighting for justice... fighting fighting fighting... always fighting. He sadly remembered the last sun he could clearly remember, the day his family had died. He cursed the heavens for granting him life and shut the door.

Right as he reached the step, Ivan called out to him. Through the open window a brown parcel flew out towards Max. He caught it with his right hand fumbling it a little.

"That's the last bit of your Package! I'll come by later to see how you're doing! Good day Max!"

Max couldn't help but laugh, he'd finally called him Max instead of Mr. Payne. He opened the parcel and fished through the contents. Two ten thousand dollar bricks and a badge... his old Badge. Polished to a new shine.

Max again couldn't help himself. He smiled. Maybe the Inner Circle finally grew some wisdom. He put the badge in his pocket and walked into the last precinct he ever would. To meet with Martin Soap. "The Punisher Task Force."


End file.
